


Gold Sickness

by Savageseraph



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)
Genre: Dark, Dragon Sickness, Fear, Lust, M/M, Rape/Non-con Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-20
Updated: 2015-12-20
Packaged: 2018-05-07 20:08:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5469407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Savageseraph/pseuds/Savageseraph





	Gold Sickness

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mm8](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mm8/gifts).



“Thorin?”

Fili squinted into his uncle’s room. Erebor had candles and lanterns aplenty, but none of them brightened the gloom that hung thick in the air. 

“Thorin?”

Everyone agreed someone had to speak with Thorin. Someone had to try to reason with him. Not surprisingly, no one wanted to claim the task. Fili couldn’t blame them. Not when Thorin’s mood was tainted by the dragon sickness that held him in its razor-taloned grasp and whispered to him of gold and blood. 

Fili crossed the threshold into his uncle’s room, and a shiver ran through him. The air felt colder. The candlelight struggled against the weight of the darkness. He cleared his throat, spoke louder. 

“Thorin?”

The silence stretched on long enough for Fili to wonder if his uncle might not be in his rooms after all. Long enough for him to wonder if he should have brought someone with him. Long enough for him to wonder if he was going to get a knife in the back instead of a single word.

“Shut the door, Fili.” 

The gravelly voice came out of the shadows. Fili scanned the room, trying to pinpoint the location. 

“ _Now!_ ”

Fili started, reached behind him to grab the door, pull it closed. 

“Lock it.”

Fili’s fingers felt clumsy and numb as he locked the door. His body was tensed to fight or to flee. He shouldn’t be afraid of being alone with his uncle. But he was.

“Uncle?”

A soft whoosh and a candle sprang to life in a dark corner of the room. The light was enough to show Thorin’s silhouette, but not enough to illuminate his features.

“Can I trust you, Fili?”

“What?” Fili took a few steps toward Thorin but stopped when Thorin rose and growled softly. “You’re my family, my blood. How could you ask me a question like that?”

Thorin closed the space between them quickly, and it took all of Fili’s resolve not to step back. Thorin’s eyes were hard as diamonds, dark as coal.

“I am also your king. That changes things, does it not?”

The dragon sickness changed things, but Fili wasn’t brash enough to say that aloud. “Changes them how?”

“People don’t covet a warrior’s possessions. They don’t spend their waking hours plotting against him.” Thorin raised a hand. His fingers brushed Fili’s cheek, the touch light. Gentle. Then they tangled in Fili’s hair, gripping it hard and using it to pull him close.

“Do you want to dispose of me too, nephew? Have I become an inconvenience? Are you impatient? Eager to claim _my_ crown and _my_ kingdom? To squander our people’s wealth on your brother’s Elven whore?” 

“How can you say that?” Fili’s anger rose to meet Thorin’s own, and he jerked his head, testing his uncle’s hold on him. “I have _always_ supported you. _Always._ I have followed you and obeyed you.”

Thorin smiled, sharp as steel. “Like you did when you chose your brother over me? When you thought playing nursemaid was more important that fighting for our kingdom?”

“If I had gone with you, Kili would be dead now.” Fili’s anger mellowed into something that felt almost like grief. The Thorin Fili respected never would have forced that choice on him or questioned his loyalty.

“All great victories require sacrifice. The more precious the prize, the greater the cost. You need to learn that, boy.”

Fili shook his head, crying out softly as Thorin yanked hard on his hair tugging his head back and baring his throat. He swallowed when he felt cold steel against his skin.

“Thorin?” The word was little more than a whisper. He shouldn’t have come alone. He hoped it wouldn’t be his last mistake.

Thorin’s fingers loosened their grip slightly as he rubbed Fili’s hair between them. “All the gold in this mountain belongs to me.” The knife didn’t waver and Fili didn’t move as Thorin’s fingers moved to stroke one of his braids. “It’s mine.” His gaze locked with Fili’s. It was predatory. _Possessive._ “Say it.” The words crackled with command.

“It’s... It’s yours.” Fili drew in a sharp hissing breath as the knife broke his skin. 

“What is?”

_The gold. The kingdom. Everything under the mountain._ Those were the safe answers, but not the one he knew his uncle wanted. The answer he had to give if he wanted to walk out of the room. He closed his eyes. “I am.”

“That’s right. You are.” When Thorin brought his mouth down on Fili’s, there was nothing seductive about the kiss. It was hard, possessive, and Fili tasted blood before it was over. “You’re mine.”

Fili nodded, murmured. “Yes.” The knife left his throat, and he drew the first full breath he had since the blade cut him. 

Thorin took a step back, looked him over. He wet his lips. “Prove it.” 

A shiver ran through Fili. He knew what sort of proof Thorin was demanding. It didn’t mean anything. Fili’s fingers went to the laces of his breeches. He hoped Thorin didn’t notice them shaking as he loosened the ties. “Where would you like me?”

“On the floor.”

Fili turned his back to his uncle, knelt. He bent over until his cheek was pressed against the cold stone floor. It was going to hurt. Thorin would make sure of that. Fili’s hands curled into fists when Thorin knelt behind him and urged his thighs further apart. If he was lucky, it would be over quickly. If he was lucky, he wouldn’t bleed too badly. If he was lucky, he wouldn’t scream.

If he was lucky, Thorin would believe him.


End file.
